#outlandish
Filmed entirely on dislocation
(of time & space)
Strictly facetious & fictitious
Angelo Badalamenti
Julee Cruise
and Kyle MacLachlan
as donut filled with hallucinogens
The taller trees take issue
with certain twin
lumberjack dwarfs
Cue the jazz saxophone
&
tavern cadaver waltz
with Audrey
"I guess it means there's trouble
until the robins come"
because Isabella Rossellini
is crazy naked
on the neighbor's lawn
...again
And Laura Palmer
looks better dead
then she ever did alive
or so sings the nightingale
What more can be expected
from a guy who grew up
with pet sidewalks
and talking paper bags?
In memory of
Six Men Getting Sick (Six Times)
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 12:37 PM UTC
Wise men teach us
to discuss
about how important is
to do some studies and analyses,
just to know,
where our roots came from.
So, I’ve done a DNA test.
Guess!
Are you aware
- do you really care -
that your destiny
is, as the wise men said, in history?
Don't you know?
Man, don't be low!
So, I’d enrolled in the army.
Funny?
I went to war
to save and protect my DNA's pure core;
Since then I do sins
and I ****
different types of enemies
with unknown identities.
That is my duty,
Isn't beauty?
Isn't fun?
But now, I'm done.
Guess what I think I am:
a cruel criminal?
a modest hero?
Anyway, nobody will see tomorrow
how I will vanished, surprisingly,
In a outlandish history.
Jan 23, 2020
Jan 23, 2020 at 3:36 PM UTC
it's easy being unconventional
and outlandish
when there's someone around
to make you feel
less strange
and more yourself
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
Did you see the swelling
The telling loss of control
I cut down the tree of reasoning
Then stood on the stump of withdrawal
The river of rage lies deep and calm
Beckons sinisterly it's coy call
"Come , come ,
fools , one and all .
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
We refuse to look into the lens of reality,
Never looking up from our books.
Unmoving when the rain pours down,
We wade through muddy brooks
We drink from cups and drain them to the dregs,
Only smiling when we see each other's disconsolate faces
Awakened from the dark depths,
Cast into the most uncharted places
Our broken fingers count the drops
Of each snowflake at the edge of autumn,
Blazing wildfires to destroy mistletoes,
Beating the rhythm of someone else's heart-drum
Our lips sing overtures to the spring grass,
Bringing forth the onset of the sunrise,
Dreaming that the fallen world,
Is actually what the angels sing of on high.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC